The F Folios
by masque
Summary: Life, in the day. Everyone looks for their own personal happy ending. Some don't know they've found it, some know they can never have it. Curt, Mandy, Brian.
1. Fucked

**Fucked**

From the moment he laid eyes on him, sober and relatively clean eyes, he knew Brian Slade would be the fuck of his life.

He just never realized in how many ways this would be true.

The offer was there, unspoken, lying beneath the sparkling champagne smiles and pretty trussed up contracts. Hell, it was practically an engraved invitation in gold lame. It wasn't until after he drank the champagne, signed the contract, and accepted the promise of sweet soft lips, that he began to wonder if he wasn't just setting himself up to get fucked over.

But such was the story of Curt's life. And for the fuck of his life, he was willing to get fucked over. In more ways than one. After all, pain was nothing new.

He stood in the hallway, adjusting himself to fit more comfortably in the tight leather pants. The girls at the party had wanted to touch him, stroke him, whisper promises and caress him with nimble fingers and pliant lips. Curt had let them, his eyes following Brian. Tonight, those blue eyes said. And suddenly, he was impatient, scrambling out of the clumsy hands of barely legal teenagers.

It surprised him, how much he wanted this. Not the sex; if there was a person who embodied desire, Curt thought Brian was probably it. No, the surprising bit was that he'd actually gotten know Brian in the past month, and it only turned Curt on even more. Brian was a cold, manipulative bastard who'd managed to get this far by sleeping with anyone who could further his ambition. Or marrying them.

There was talent there, no doubt. But there were a thousand talented artists who couldn't make a headline if they worked at a newspaper, never mind sell out tour dates a full year in advance. He was intelligent, shrewd, charming, cunning and could switch between boyishly sexy and deviously fuckable with ease. Everyone and everything was a piece on his chessboard.

He didn't have a manager or groupies or a wife. He didn't have lovers.

He had possessions.

And in the rare moments when Curt voluntarily reflected on his past, it surprised the fuck out of him that he desperately wanted to be one of those possessions.

He took another drink out of the bottle and headed for Brian's room. A clear message, that. He could only hope Mandy had the good sense to stay out front. And that Brian came alone.

Curt was standing at the window, his back to the door, when he heard it quietly swish open. The carpet was too thick for footsteps, but he imagined he could feel Brian coming closer. Warm strong arms wrapped around his waist, holding him securely, while soft lips trailed kisses across his shoulder. Gentle fingers stroked his stomach, not clumsy, not cloying, but moving slowly and teasing his senses. Curt's skin burned everywhere Brian touched him. There was no mistaking the hard cock pressing against him, rocking gently into his ass.

Curt shivered. He could do that. For Brian. 

He turned in the embrace, Brian's arms snaking around his shoulders, Curt's hands pulling their hips together. He heard Brian gasp, those pretty plush lips opening, and Curt couldn't resist them anymore. Cinnamon, champagne and a faint hint of strawberries exploded on Curt's tongue as he tasted every corner of Brian's mouth, counting each tooth and claiming every crevice. Someone moaned, but he was too busy trying to reach Brian's tonsils to care who.

A hand in his hair finally pulled hard enough for him to notice that he needed to breathe, but he dove back just as soon as he could gulp some air. Then it was Brian's turn to explore, kissing him with a defiant passion that excited Curt more than he thought possible. Brian wanted him, was desperate for him. Not Mandy, not some pretty boy or girl who fawned over his every gesture. Him. 

They stayed like that an eternity, kissing, tasting. Curt had forgotten there were so many different types of kisses. Hot open-mouthed kisses, sloppy wet kisses, hard demanding kisses, rough biting kisses, soothing licking kisses, teasing playful kisses… they'd gone through every kiss Curt could remember and invented one or two that would be illegal in most countries. Strangely, he thought he could live and die happily just kissing Brian.

Curt's hands were far ahead of him though, and already Brian's shirt lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. So much more skin, pale and smooth, just waiting for Curt' kisses. The pulse under his lips was beating faster, whispered moans became louder, and finally Curt heard a choked cry when he teased and bit a tempting nipple. His fingers found the zipper of Brian's satin pants, already slightly wet in the front, and pulled it down. Curt backed Brian towards the bed, a little awkwardly but successfully, and claimed one more heated kiss from those swollen lips. He pulled away reluctantly, pushing Brian down on the bed and before Brian could protest, swiftly removed the stained pants.

And now Brian fucking Slade was spread out before him like a gourmet buffet and Curt was the guest of honor. 

So fucking beautiful.

Brian made no sound save that of his harsh breathing, letting Curt praise him with his eyes, merely accepting the attention as his due with a sly little half smile. Brian's hand drifted down to lazily stroke his cock, already hard and leaking for Curt, waiting for him. More skin to be kissed, Curt thought.

He dropped to his knees between Brian's legs and gently kissed the glistening tip, smearing his lips with pre-come. Looking up into Brian's eyes, he licked. Brian moaned. And then Curt was licking, tasting, devouring him; swallowing him whole, nose tickled by coarse brown curls, and totally drunk on Brian. And again hands were stroking his hair, encouraging him.

He didn't want to stop but he could feel how close Brian was and backed off slightly. There were others things he wanted to do tonight. Things Brian wanted to do.

Curt stood and reached for the button of his trousers, when Brian stopped him, batting away his hands impatiently. Tugged forward by his belt loops, Curt almost fell on top of him in Brian's eagerness to get Curt naked. Though he seemed a bit distracted by the leather. Curt grinned at Brian's indecision. Fuck with the leather pants or without?

Skin won. 

Once the pants had joined the clothes on the floor, Brian's hands were everywhere, his stomach, his ass, his hips. His face soon followed the curious hands, like an overactive puppy sniffing and tasting new scents. Curt couldn't think of anything more fucking hot than Brian affectionately nuzzling his cock.

He growled and pushed them both back on the bed, rolling them so that Brian lay on top. Skin on skin, writhing against each other, Curt framed Brian's face with his hands and brought him down for another kiss. This one almost had them mastering the art of not breathing, which was perfect because their lips seemed to be firmly melded together. Curt discovered that sucking hard on Brian's tongue earned him a whimper, while nibbling on his upper lip elicited a moan. Not to mention the delicious gasp when Curt broke away and marked his neck. 

Touching and teasing Brian was addictive, he was so responsive.

Curt was so caught up in the sensory overload that was Brian, he failed to notice their change in position until after Brian had successfully planted Curt on top of him. Brian wantonly spread his legs in open invitation and settled Curt comfortably between them, hands roaming over every part of Curt he could reach. Curt was confused, and it must have shown on his face because Brian suddenly closed his eyes and bit his lip.

It was the most adorably vulnerable expression Curt had ever seen. 

Until Brian opened his eyes.

And then Curt knew why he wanted Brian so desperately, why every look enflamed him, why the icy manipulative exterior didn't bother him. Why he wouldn't mind the pain to come.

Because he could see Brian. The Brian that was locked away behind a mask of indifference. The Brian no one even thought to look for, much less suspect existed. The Brian that was asking for something that neither of them could put into words. 

Curt knew his answer would always be yes.

He reached out and brushed the back of his hand against Brian's cheek. Brian smiled. And then the seducer was back in full force in those blue eyes, waiting for Curt to do something. Now.

Curt's hand drifted down between them and Brian gasped as those fingers fondled him roughly before moving lower, seeking his entrance. Surprise flitted across Curt's face as he realized that Brian was oiled and ready for him. Curt was already harder than he'd ever been in his life, but the wicked smile Brian gave him then almost made him come on the spot.

He hooked Brian's ankles over his shoulders and smeared as much of the leaking fluid over his cock as possible. He spared a moment to be thankful that his lover was so flexible as his mouth sealed over Brian's. He positioned himself, pressing lightly against Brian's body, his tongue mirroring his actions and gently coaxing Brian to open for him. Brian's mouth opened and with a short thrust, Curt sheathed the head of his cock inside that tight welcoming heat. He paused for a moment, regaining his shaky control and allowing Brian to relax, then gave another calculated thrust before slamming down and burying himself completely in Brian's slick channel.

Fuck.

Curt had intended to take his time, work them both into a frenzy, then back off and repeat for as long as he could last. Till sunrise at least.

Brian didn't like that plan. After two minutes, Curt readily agreed with him. He thrust with long hard strokes that made Brian moan and clench his muscles around Curt's cock, which in turn made Curt growl and thrust harder. Bodies slick and overheated, Brian let his legs fall around Curt's waist, trapping his erection between them, urging Curt move faster, harder, deeper and Curt eagerly obliged. He didn't think he could ever stop fucking Brian, but he felt his climax building, his body straining against Brian, driving into him, sliding in and out of that blissful heat surrounding him, waiting for that perfect moment…and found it when their eyes locked and Brian came between them with a whispered, "Curt."

Nirvana. Nothing could beat this.

They collapsed in a heap of tangled limbs, too sated and exhausted to move. Swollen lips gently soothed him, confident hands traced lazy patterns on his back. Curt felt Brian's sigh ruffle his hair when he withdrew and cautiously, casually draped an arm over Brian's waist, pulling him back against his chest. The pulse at Brian's neck gradually fell back into a normal rhythm as his breathing evened out. Curt slid a leg between Brian's and felt his come trickling down Brian's thighs. He smiled.

Brian Slade was the fuck of his life. If he thought that fuck might be the wrong word, well that was for Curt to know. Curt refused to delude himself by thinking things would be different now. He knew Brian and he knew the way the world worked through bitter experience. Curt was ready for it.

He was Brian's. 

_fin_


	2. Feint

**Feint**

She was never quite sure when it happened, but she remembered watching him from across the room, watched him smiling and laughing with a freedom he'd never allowed himself before. She remembered thinking, He's no longer mine.

Gathering her robe and shoes, she quietly walked to the door but paused just shy of opening it. She couldn't resist a last look at the man that was her world.

She should have realized sooner, of course, but fool that she was, she simply hadn't known until it was too late. That gorgeous seduction, her body's betrayal, reason's abandonment; she'd had nothing left of herself that wasn't subsumed in Brian.

He proposed. She'd accepted, girlish laughter bubbling up inside of her.

Happily ever after turned out to be very short. Lipstick that wasn't hers, clothes that reeked of sweat and semen, the sly satisfaction sparkling in his eyes. It had been a gradual change, or at least she wanted to think it was. She credited Brian with easing her transition into their new life together. And she noted that all of his liaisons were short-lived, meaningless fucks for a moment's pleasure or career advancement.

He always returned to her.

She could live with that. Admire it even. It appealed to her vanity to be an icon of the sexual revolution, rebellious and free. A fiction she could emulate to keep up with him. The little girl who'd dreamed of white weddings slowly faded away.

And Mandy Slade became a star.

The fame, money, sex, drugs, all of it so intoxicating and there at her side was one of the most lusted after men in Britain. Mandy was his wife, his lover, his confidante…he'd chosen her. It was a gorgeous time, and even if it wasn't perfect, it was enough.

Until he'd said those magic words, I want to meet Curt Wild.

Brian had an almost angelic innocence about him when he slept. The first light of the morning settled around him adoringly and reminded her uncomfortably that she was actually older than Brian. Silly to think about really, no one would guess looking at them together and one could hardly describe Brian as naive by any means.

But she was supposed to look after him, support him, push him toward stardom -- not simper on the sidelines because she didn't get enough time with him.

Hating Curt was easier. He'd stolen Brian from her, seduced him with smoky eyes and raw music, usurped her place in his life, and just fit with Brian better than she ever could.

Last night. She had no idea why he'd sought her out. There'd been no outrageous party, no sexed up couples littering the floor. They'd all been too exhausted from the road, most heading off immediately to crash in their rooms. And yet he'd come to her. Not him.

Brian hadn't said a word beyond her name, touching her softly, attentive and reverent, and so totally focused on her that she had to brush away a stray tear or three. Their last night.

She didn't know why he'd done it. Probably never would. It was a goodbye; a beautiful, subtle, unspoken goodbye, but still he'd cut her out of his life with a gasp and a sigh. Perhaps Brian felt she deserved a better send off than his other fuck-toys.

Hating Curt was so much easier. 

She brushed a hand across her eye and opened the door. 

Coffee. She needed coffee. No tea. Black, strong, and bitter. 

The kitchen was usually deserted anytime before noon, so to find a steaming pot of coffee already waiting brought her up short. 

But who else would drink … oh.

Slowly, she opened the cabinet and pulled down a mug. The familiar soothing smell hit her as she poured. Wrapping both hands around the mug, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before taking a sip. Better. Now she could turn around.

Oh.

Curt was standing in the far corner of the combined kitchen/living room, looking out the window and holding a steaming cup. His back was turned away from her so it was likely he hadn't seen her yet.

She should leave. Go back to her room. Go back to Brian, sleeping peacefully.

She took a step toward Curt.

Silently she studied him, thinking on what she knew of this familiar stranger who'd waltzed into her life and made it his. Sketchy rumors and random facts were all she came up with. Boisterous and cynical one moment, quiet and invisible the next. A mystery, enticing but fleeting. Or so she'd thought. She never spent time with him, never really spoken with him. What exactly do you say to you husband's lover?

-Brilliant shag, isn't he?  
-Fuck yeah. The way his fingers know exactly where to tease…   
-And when he does that thing with his tongue--  
-And licks up and around--  
-And his eyes, god--  
-The way they sparkle--   
-Just before he comes.  
-…..  
-Want some coffee, love? 

No, she and Curt were too alike that way, possessive. They'd marked each other instantly as rivals, though she knew now it wasn't really a contest.

Because neither of them were going to win. 

Distantly she heard herself say, "He can't love you." 

He turned and looked at her. Stared really. He was utterly still and she hadn't the faintest clue what was happening behind those grey eyes. Unnerved and unwilling to show it, she stood her ground though he seemed perfectly content to stare her down all morning. She stifled the urge to shift her feet.

Finally something in his eyes changed, the hard edge softened.

"I know," he said. Curt gave her a faint smile and turned back to the window.

It was soft and sad, his voice, and something inside her crumbled at the sound of it. I should've known Brian was never mine, she thought.

Hating Curt was easier. But life wasn't about easy, was it? 

_fin_


End file.
